


Providing

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bestiality, Breastfeeding, Come Eating, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugging, Forced Orgasm, Galra customs, Kinda, Male Lactation, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Restraints, feeding kits, noncon, play breeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: During his time as Champion, Shiro is given a break to perform another task for the Galra.[non-con filth fic, read the tags!]





	1. Lick

**Author's Note:**

> ***Read those tags!!! ***  
This fic also involves Galra-kits in a sexual situation from Shiro's perspective. I did not tag for underage, they are presented here more as animals, but here's your warning if it's not for you!

The only easy choice Shiro makes after he's abducted by the Galra is to take Matt’s place in the ring. Everything after that is a sliding scale of absolute shit.

But he wins and he wins and he wins. He bleeds but he stays alive, fighting like a feral thing. He earns the title Champion. It should go on like that indefinitely, or until Shiro’s death, but it doesn’t. One day, instead of the guards there’s a physician at the door to his cell.

“Come,” the man orders, unlocking the door and then turning away.

Shiro could take this opportunity to flee, to attack the man, but he doesn’t. There’s a ship full of Galra and he’s still badly worn down from the last match.

“Where are we going?” He asks instead as he follows.

“You’re on rest, so you’re mine for the week.”

The man doesn’t say anything else and Shiro can feel a rise in tension. He's clearly run through his allotment of questions. Over the last few months Shiro’s gotten better with Galra customs, figured out when to shut his mouth before getting hit.

They go into the labs and then deeper, all the way back. There’s a locked one that opens to the man’s hand and then seals quickly behind them.“Sit,” he gestures to the reclined chair. It reminds Shiro of a dentist chair.

The man pulls up a holo screen and starts typing, but it does nothing to illuminate the situation because Shiro can’t understand Galran.

When he finishes there he walks over to a cupboard which looks like a refrigerator when he opens it. He takes out a chilled and opaque liquid. “Drink,” the man says and offers it.

In other circumstances Shiro would never. Even now he hesitates, looking at the man.

“I need to take readings, it’s for the machine.” The man says.

“Like a dye?”

The Galra’s eyebrows wrinkle. “I don’t know what that means. Drink.”

Shiro takes the drink. He knows he doesn’t have a choice. If he doesn’t do it voluntarily then it will be forced on him. He knows that well from his time here. It’s better to fight the battles that matter, and likely this is not one of them. He’s still winning in the ring, so the man will not damage him. Probably.

He opens the top and takes a swig. It’s chalky and a little bitter. When he looks up the Galra is watching him.

“At least half please.”

Shiro does it quickly. He wants the man to stop staring.

When he hands back the liquid the man makes a pleased sound and then tells Shiro to lie back in the chair.

There’s a battery of standard tests then. The same kind they give him in medical after his fights. He doesn’t recognize any of the equipment, but Shiro figures it’s the same kind of stuff as earth. Blood pressure, heart beat, lungs, the man pricks his finger and smears a drop of his blood on a test strip.

But it’s during the manual exam that Shiro starts to feel funny. The Galra is lifting each of his arms, resting the joints, but Shiro can’t focus. His hands feel a little numb.

“That’s okay,” the Galra says when testing his legs. Shiro can’t even manage to lift them.

“Wha…?” His tongue is heavy, his words a little slurred. He’s collapsed back into the chair now.

“Just a sedative.”

Shiro tries to snark at the man, but everything is quickly getting too difficult. His eyes are sliding shut and he’s so, so tired.

“It’s come to my attention,” the man says, his voice low and intimate. “That humans could make excellent _garesh _for the kits.”

Shiro doesn’t understand the word and he’s slipping too far now to ask. All he can feel is the man’s hands, large and too hot, at the button of his pants, undoing them.

And then Shiro’s out.

##

The dream is thick like syrup. It pours over him, sensitizing his nerves, covering him sweet and warm. He moves with it, chasing the pleasure that begins to bloom in his belly. It’s hot, but the good kind. The burn that grounds him. That slides into the tips of his fingers and toes and tingles.

The heat wraps around his cock, and he’s hard, dripping. The sensation is amazing, just pure pleasure. He’s too tired to move, so he just enjoys. It strokes him soft and slow, exactly how he likes it when he’s playing with himself.

His cock pulses and the motion washes over him faster. It’s so good, so good. He never wants it to end.

But there’s a prickling something in the back of his head. A thought or worry. Something black and sharp. Shiro tries to keep it back, to focus on the absolutely indulgent suck on his cock. It’s never felt this good, and surely he can deal with whatever that is _after. _

The sleep keeps lifting though, even as he grasps at it. Reality is coming through, rousing him. There’s light beyond his closed eyes, and sound. A slick, filthy sound that—

It’s like a collapsing building the way everything hits him. Garrison, Kerberos, Galra. _Champion_. And he was in the room with a man, a man that had drugged him.

Air rushes into his lungs, even as _someone_ licks at the head of his cock.

Shiro opens his head, crying out, flailing to get away.

Except he can’t. That’s immediately apparent. His limbs aren’t too heavy or drugged to move, they’re tied down.

He’s in a different room, bolted into the floor. Naked.

And between his legs is a small furred animal. Purple like the Galra, but it resembles a small puppy or kitten. Something cute and harmless.

Except it’s lapping at his cock.

“Hey!” He tries to shift, to get it off, but there’s no give on the restraints. His cock only bobs a little and that seems to excite the creature. It opens its mouth to try and suckle on him.

Shiro swears loudly, tugging painfully at his ankles and wrists. It feels _amazing_, but it’s wrong. So fucking wrong. Whatever this thing is he isn’t— doesn’t—

He casts a look around, but there’s no one else in the room. The room has couches and pillows and a soft carpeted floor, it resembles more of a luxurious living room than anything else. Shiro doesn’t understand what’s going on.

He grunts as the thing sucks on him. He’s still disgustingly hard, and the animal croons happily as his cock throbs again and leaks. It wants—

The thought gets him hot. It’s bad, so bad and wrong, but it’s twisting in his belly. Everything feels like fire and he’s _close_.

“Nooo,” Shiro moans, shifting uselessly. The animal just keeps lapping at him, sucking the wetness from his tip.

He figures it must be a drug, whatever the man gave him. A sedative, but also something else because the arousal just keeps building. His cock twitches and there’s a small mewling sound. Shiro looks down.

Seeing it suckle needily is it for him. Shiro feels helpless at the roar of his orgasm, at the deep pleasure that overwhelms him.

But he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t know if it’s shame or curiosity or disgust, but he can’t look away. He watches his cock throb and spill into the kits mouth, overflowing even as the kit's excitement grows.

It pulls back and Shiro keeps coming, painting it’s furred little face with come. It’s positively obscene, sticky and dripping off its muzzle. It still licks at Shiro’s cock, at the come now dripping down the sides.

And even that feels amazing. Everything feels amazing.

He gasps and tugs at the restraints even as his cockhead blurts a couple extra pulses. The kit laps those up too.

Shiro collapses back and closes his eyes. He feels horrifyingly ashamed. He just came all over that kit. Came because it felt good even as he knew it was wrong. He's fucked, he's so fucked.

Across the room, the door clicks open.

“Well done Champion.”

Shiro doesn’t need to look to know that voice. It’s the Galra from before. He listens to the man walk close before he dares to open his eyes.

The Galra leans down and scoops up the kit. Easily he swipes the come off its face and lets it lick his fingers clean.

“The first trial was a success,” the Galra says. “But I think we will need to tinker with your body some more. A _garesh _needs to feed more than just one kit, don’t you think?”

He turns his head then and Shiro can hear the pattern of tiny paws. Something cold drops into his belly, and Shiro knows what he will see when he looks.

From the open door a litter of small, bumbling kits runs in. Shiro growls and tugs at the restraints.

“You can’t do this!”

The Galra smiles at him smug and drops the cleaned kit back into his stomach. “We’ve had such pains setting up a daycare for the kits. They need a warm body, somebody to love and provide for them. Couldn’t find a Galra that could spare the time.”

“I won’t do this,” Shiro hisses.

“You will, Champion,” already the other kits are crowding, mewling at the one on his stomach. Another bold one hops up and goes directly to his cock, sniffing at the softening tip. “You will because you don’t have any other choice.”

The injection comes out of nowhere, and Shiro has just enough time to shout before it’s in his neck, pressing into his bloodstream. The noise and sudden movement scatters the kits, but only briefly. The Galra stands and smiles down at Shiro. He’s already feeling the heaviness settling in his body.

“Try to enjoy it,” the man smirks, “you’re caring for our littlest and most vulnerable, the job could be worse. You could be in the ring.”

He would rather be. This is—

Shiro casts curses at the man’s back as he leaves. The Galra ignores him.

As the door shuts Shiro finds himself losing his grip on his anger, the drugs working fast in his body. His cock is already hardening, but he finds it difficult to care. The kits gather round, drawn to the smell of him, but all it feels is good.

He hates it, he doesn’t want it to happen, but they begin lapping at him and all Shiro can feel is the overwhelming pleasure. His cock starts throbbing and there’s a chorus of little sounds as they suck at his wetness.

He’s not going to last. He shuts his eyes and tries to pretend it's not happening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cough. Hey. Wanted to try something with Shiro. Will there be more of this? Who knows. Will I wander off into another filth topic? Also no clue. 
> 
> But leave a comment, your love and horny ideas often get me to write way, way more than I normally would (see below).


	2. Suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags for body modification and lactation.

It gets worse.

Shiro goes in and out of fugue states as the Galra _tinkers_ with his body. There’s no physical changes like his arm, but there are drugs. A lot of drugs.

It’s hard to tell time, but sometime later Shiro is taken back to that room and laid out on the plush carpet. The Galra looks down at him and smiles, then leaves.

There are no restraints.

Shiro figures out the reason for this just a moment later when he tries to move and can't. His body weighs a ton, still numbed or fucked up with drugs. It’s impossible for him to do more than sort of shuffle a few millimeters.

He’s useless.

Shiro looks down and sees he’s still naked. His mind is a little clearer than it was last time, and he doesn’t see anything about him that's physically different except maybe the pinkness of his nipples. Are they a little pink? Swollen?

Shiro tries to lift his hand to touch but it’s too heavy. At least he's not plus or minus any body parts. Shiro can endure a little drugging, it's hardly anything new with the Galra.

Across the room there’s a click of the door opening and then the kits all run in. They’re cute little fuzz balls on stubby legs that cause them to bump and fumble into each other.

But then they head directly toward Shiro as the door shuts and Shiro _remembers. _

It’s sick, this, all that happened before. Shiro’s body betrayed him, and he still remembers with a kind of half-shocked horror how his cock throbbed until it spilled all over the furred face. A shiver runs down his spine. He remembers, acutely, how good it was, and it makes him feel worse.

There’s no time or strength in his body to do anything about it now though. The kits take no time in swarming him, climbing and pouncing and mewling. Their bodies are soft and warm where they touch him. Shiro’s aware, immediately, of how sensitive he is. How his skin practically _sings _with every brush.

And then, even worse, some of the kits start to move down his body. They're following their little pack leader, the one Shiro remembers from before. That kit has purple fur like all the rest, but the dark markings on its face Shiro remembers. Shiro would remember that kit even at a distance of years, the image of it burned into his head from the last time.

The kit knows just what to do, and how to do it. It pads down to Shiro’s cock that’s already rising to attention, and immediately begins to lick.

Shiro jerks, tries to jerk, but his body won’t listen. It's both numb and oversensitive at the same time. Several of the other kits crowd, sniffing and pawing between his legs curiously. It’s only when the first kit pulls back and Shiro’s cock blurts out a bit of precome that the rest of the pack really get interested.

There’s a fuss then, little noses and tongues all competing to get at Shiro. There’s a handful of sensations around his cock, strange and filthy sensations that only make him harder. It’s so wrong but there’s nothing Shiro can do to stop it. The kits begin to kick and suck at him and his cock just throbs under the attention.

A runt is pushed out of the feeding frenzy and it stumbles up Shiro’s belly and to his chest. It’s lighter purple with white stripes on its paws. It mewls at him forlornly.

_Hungry_, Shiro thinks behind the daze.

But he can’t make them share, can’t even raise his arms to clear a space for the little one.

That line of thinking has him shuttering. Or maybe that’s the several sucking mouths on his cock. It’s hard to think. Shiro’s getting all twisted up in the sensations. It’s wrong, bad, he should get up—

He has a sinking, dark thought that at that moment if he could move, maybe he wouldn’t. That maybe it feels too good. That maybe Shiro would make a token protest but then allow the kits to bowl him over and have him. The pleasure is growing thicker by the moment, and Shiro's brain just keeps reminding him of the last time. How powerful and good the orgasm was.

The shame is an even hotter flush in his body. Shiro looks past the kit on his chest still pawing at him with complaint, but he can barely see his cock. The other kits have gotten his cock pressed down against his lower belly, where they’re licking up every drop that leaks free. They’re hungry, practically obsessive how they work him over.

They want his come, and Shiro has no doubts that very soon they will have it.

He grunts, hips trying to move into the pleasure even as he tells himself that he's not.

The kit on his chest slides a little forward and it’s paw hits Shiro’s nipple. It’s a spindle shock of sensitivity and he curses, hands attempting to curl. The kit, confused by the sound and movement, lowers its head to his chest to sniff in inquiry.

Shiro watches it with a slow dawning horror. He remembers the words from the Galra, _a garesh needs to feed more than just one kit, don’t you think?_

Then the kit is nosing at his nipple and Shiro can feel the pressure, the pressure in his chest that’s been there the whole time just behind the numbness. The kit latches on and Shiro cries out at the sharp stab of arousal it brings, at how disastrously good it feels when the kit begins to suckle.

Shiro wasn’t going to hold out before, but he really can’t now. His body moves in the small amounts that it can, pushing up into hungry mouths that lick and suck at him. He’s ashamed of himself, at how he can’t stop it, at how in his belly that only makes it all the hotter.

The kit on his nipple sucks harder then and something strange moves in Shiro. It shifts without his consent and then there's a sudden release, a flood. On his chest is a heat, a wetness dripping down. The kit makes a sound of absolute happiness. He’s— he’s—

It’s not possible, and yet—

Shiro blinks his eyes open, breathing hard, and sees it. Sees the milky fluid from the tip of his own nipple. He sees the little mouth relatch and feed. It's obscene, wrong. The knife of pleasure twists savagely in his gut and Shiro curses jaggedly.

And then Shiro can’t hold on anymore. His whole body is heat and pleasure and he’s jerking up, coming in thick, hot splashes. There’s a flurry of commotion among the kits as they fight over it. Small greedy noises can be heard as they lick at him, coaxing pulse after pulse of come. Shiro’s body is electric and gold, everything so good he can barely stand it. He cries out for it, for more, for the slick tongues just beneath his cockhead to keep urging out his release.

He comes for a long time, far longer than a natural human body could. It’s a lot and he knows it even before he opens his eyes.

Dazedly he watches the kits spread out across his torso, lapping at the spill. Several of them have dirty faces, but they don’t seem at all upset. In fact they all seem so please to lick the sticky spill off each other's muzzles.

The kit on Shiro's tit pulls off then, licking its milk-mussed face. Another kit sniffing it’s way up from Shiro’s cock sees, sniffs, and then beats the runt to Shiro’s other nipple.

He’s too sensitive after his orgasm when the kit latches there, but even as Shiro shouts he can’t do anything about it. His body is more lax than it was before, exhausted by the comedown.

He can do nothing but lie there while he’s cleaned by the kits, and the one on his nipple begins to suck and get milk. It’s a confusion of pain and overwhelmed pleasure. Shiro has to shut his eyes and grit his teeth against it.

It goes on that like for a while. Some of the kits see the one feeding and get interested in Shiro’s chest as well. The rest finish cleaning and either settle around him to rest because they’ve had their fill, or go back to his cock and lick at it hopefully.

Shiro’s cock thankfully doesn’t rise again, but the kits take turns feeding from his tits until Shiro runs dry. By the time they settle down to sleep Shiro’s a mess of nerve endings and shame. His nipples are peaked and swollen, but that internal pressure is gone and he’s grateful for that much.

Further down his body some of the kits are curled up and asleep around his soft cock. Their fur is warm and downy, and if it weren’t for how wrong this all is, it would be a nice feeling.

Shiro closes his eyes and tries not to think, but that’s almost worse. There’s soft breathing and snuggled warmth all around him. Shiro has so many feelings about what just happened, but it’s so clear that the kits don’t. It's abundantly clear they’re just happy to be fed and napping.

Shiro remembers the Galra telling him about his role here as if he were just an attendant of a daycare.

It almost makes him scoff. This is the most perverse daycare Shiro's ever heard of.

Still, of all the fucked up things in this situation, Shiro can’t blame the kits. They're so small and vulnerable. They don’t know better. The Galra said they didn’t have anyone to care for them, and that idea burrows slowly into Shiro's chest. The Galra are his enemy, but he can't help but see sleeping kits cuddled on his chest and find them innocent. 

Shiro catches the dangerous spiral of his thoughts and tries to rein it in. That's not— he can't— 

Shiro thinks of the drugs still heavy in his system. Surely this softness is their influence. Just because the kits— just because that happened doesn't mean he's responsible for them. It doesn't mean they've bonded. It doesn't mean anything.

Shiro looks at one of the kits nearest to his face, it's tiny little features in sleep.

He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that this is a torture. He can't get drawn into this madness. He won't.

One of the kits gives a huge yawn and settles in the fur of another.

Shiro turns away and closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I wanted to write more lactation. Uhhh, about to be on winter break, so you guys know the drill: if you want more, lovely or horny comments inspire me to write!


	3. Feed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for afab or female-coded language used occasionally for Shiro's body going forward.

There’s a long nap after that, and then a Galra comes to the door and calls the kits away. Whatever drug Shiro’s been given has mostly warn off then, and when two Galra guards come in to get him up, he can almost stand on his own. They help him into a shower and then take him back to the room and lock him in.

The kits are still missing, but there’s a splay of food on serving board style table. The implications are clear.

It’s been… a while since his last meal. At least Shiro assumes. With whatever they’ve been doing with his body it’s hard to tell how much time has passed. He wastes no time in digging in.

The food is different than what he was served in the cell as Champion. That was clearly designed as a high protein diet. This one is much more lush. There’s meat and fruit and cheese and sweets. Shiro knows it’s not just his hunger that makes it all taste so good either, this food is genuinely better.

He carefully does not think about why the Galra would suddenly start providing him a rich and full diet. The bottom line is the same no matter what though, Shiro needs strength and energy, and any crumb of food passed his way is better spent in his belly. Even if they've drugged it, it doesn't much matter. They can drug him at any time, better to have the calories too.

Shiro clears almost everything on the board, and then spreads himself out on the low couch, aching with how full he is. His hands falls to his belly, a little too satisfied with the swell there. Or maybe he’s just happy to have the feeling back in his hands at all, happy to have the ability to move while he can.

After an idle minute of this, his hands begin to drift up. Because while Shiro’s belly is intentionally full, there’s a secondary sort of pressure that’s risen to awareness. One he’s almost too afraid to put words to.

His hand wanders up his chest just shy of…

Shiro knows if he were to look down the swell of his muscles would not be not right. They’re a little too much there. He swallows hard and then his hand slides up the slope of one, fingers just barely brushing his own nipple.

A sharp sensation springs forth, both soreness and arousal all tangled up together. It’s intense.

He pinches the nipple and his body jerks. An anticipatory feeling rises in him.

Still nude, it’s an effort not to look. He knows if he does he'd see how pinked and swollen his nipples are. How ready they are for-

Then the door clicks open. The pack of kits come bounding back into the room. 

They head right toward Shiro with little sounds of glee, tripping and knocking into one another. Shiro’s heart starts pounding as they get to him and start to climb their way up the couch.

Immediately he stands. They’re too small to reach any of his… sensitive areas if he’s standing. Still some of the stronger ones get up into the couch and reach for him there. Shiro looks down at their cute furred faces. They're all staring up at him adoringly.

“No,” he says.

Two of them mewl at him, one paws at his leg. Another two have been bowled over and are wrestling like kittens on the carpet.

Shiro steps over them and crosses the room to the door. It’s locked again. He hears the soft sound of the kits following and then they’re back at his ankles. Two of them are still on the couch watching to see if he’ll return.

So he can’t leave, but at least for now he has full use of his body. He can stop all that happened before from happening again. That's a relief.

Shiro walks about the room checking for any other hidden doors or weak spots, but finds nothing. The kits follow after, calling and pawing at him.

At one point Shiro’s not looking, and he knocks one of them over. The baby cries out an awful shrill noise, and Shiro’s heart spikes in worry. Immediately he bends down to help the kit back on its feet. It’s fur is so soft when he brushes his fingers across its head. It looks up at him with glossy adorable eyes. Startled more than anything, it's seems okay and willing to forgive his transgression as he lavishes it with some scratches.

“Sorry little one,” he says. The others crowd his hand trying to get pet as well, mewling needily.

Shiro gives them all a few pets and then stands back up. Their eyes follow, some of them hop up on their hind legs and call for him.

Shiro looks up at the ceiling and sighs. They’re really cute things, and he knows they don’t understand what’s going on. The guilt of it niggles at him, their cries slipping up under his rib cage to tug at the soft parts of his heart.

They’re just babes.

Shiro does a few more laps of the room. It feels good to move and stretch his legs. Slowly the kits follow tire. A few retire to the couch or the carpet near it, collapsing in furred piles for a nap.

Still, some dedicated ones stay with him.

_The most hungry_, Shiro’s head unhelpfully adds.

He eventually gets tired of pacing and stands for a while, watching the kits sleep. The ones around his legs tussle and paw at his toes. It tickles.

Another hour or so goes by and Shiro’s feet are getting sore. He’s tired of standing and the couch is starting to look _so_ comfortable.

If this were life or death, he could go on standing. He’s done plenty of endurance sport in his life, including the arena, and he knows the limits of his body. He could go on standing.

It’s that he doesn’t have to that’s breaking him down. It’s that some of the kits are still staring up at him beseechingly, asking Shiro to care for them.

He wonders how true what the other Galra said is. If Shiro doesn’t take care of them, will no one? Will the Galra just let these kits go hungry?

Shiro’s seen how they treat some of their own in the arena and in the cells. They’re a warrior race, but does that extend to kits? Are they willing to let these kits come to harm just to humiliate Shiro?

He frowns thinking about that other Galra. Was this to humiliate, or was this really just a job that needed doing, and Shiro was available? Because with the exception of… whatever the Galra did to Shiros body, he’s not being harmed. Not really. Not like he would be in the arena or the cells.

Shiro has been thinking of this as some sick punishment, but is it… a reward?

He looks around the room now seeing it anew. It’s comfy, nice. The food was excellent, the shower better than the hosing downs of before, and the only other occupants are the kits. Harmless kits.

Shiro thinks on this a long time. This room has its own dangers, but are they worse than the arena? Should Shiro keep holding out and see if he gets thrown back there?

He walks over to the couch, one kit still following him. Shiro looks down and sees its the one with dark purple fur and huge ears. The kit looks up at him, pawing with all the sadness of a small kitten who hasn’t been fed in an hour and is surely starving to death.

The pressure in Shiro’s chest now is pushing itself to the front of his mind. He knows what it is, knows what the solution is.

It would be _so easy_.

He looks at the kit, avoiding focusing on his own chest. It stands up on its hind legs, leaning on Shiro’s shin and chirps.

“_Fuck_,” Shiro curses, and reaches down to scoop it up.

The kit wiggles in delight as Shiro tucks it against his chest. There’s a purr starting up in its chest. Shiro fingers the soft fur of the ears.

For a few seconds the kit just snuggles against him, content to be scratched and pet. Shiro does so, and he knows he’s slipping fast. It’s so cute and all it wants is for Shiro to take care of it. Kits don’t know right from wrong, they only know love and loss. Shiro doesn't want to hurt them. There's more than enough hurt on this ship without him adding to it. 

Shiro’s eyes drift to his own chest. It’s swollen, aching. His nipples are pink and peaked. The kit is just below, purring happily at Shiro’s attentions.

It would be so easy to—

The thought digs itself in and lays down roots. If he’s capable, shouldn’t he do this? This is… natural. Normal. Maybe not for him in particular, but that part of him has been clearly adjusted for the task. If Shiro keeps them away from his lower regions, then what’s the harm? He has food and they need food. It can be non-sexual. It can be just nurturing.

He raises his hands a little to bring the kit up to his pecs. He can’t remember if this is one that fed before, or if Shiro will have to show them.

He stops petting and holds the kit up to one nipple. Shiro’s heart is pounding and something in his belly is too hot.

The kit just looks up at him confused as to why Shiro’s stopped petting. It makes a tiny sound of inquiry.

Shiro takes his finger to his nipple and taps the skin beside it to draw the kits attention. It follows his finger and then leans in to sniff.

A moment later something must click, because the kit makes a sound of glee and latches.

The sensation almost buckles Shiro’s knees. Its like a lightning strike the second that little mouth closes over his sensitive nub. Shiro feels it like a quake through his body that shoots pleasure in every direction.

And it doesn’t stop.

The kit starts sucking hard with no build up, just greedy want. It runs up and down Shiro’s spine and he groans as he feels something in his chest give. The milk starts.

He stumbles sideways and into the couch, pushing one of the kits there aside so he can collapse. His one hand keeps the kit at his tit as it begins to suckle hungrily.

Shiro’s cock fills without him wanting it to and he has no recourse, the pleasure is striking him too hard.

Then there’s a lick at his cock.

Shiro curses and looks down to see the kits on the couch coming to and crawling over him. Quickly Shiro shoves his cock down and then crosses his legs. It’s painful and awkward with how hard he is, but Shiro does it because he must. He must keep the semblance of propriety.

The kits crawl over his lap sniffing and licking and then mew at him when they can’t find a food source.

“Just…”

He scoots down on the couch so he can recline slightly. The angle allows him to let go of the one kit and scoop up another off his lap.

He takes it to his breast where it instantly paws at his nipple. This one remembers. When the second kit starts suckling, Shiro almost comes.

It’s twin sources of pleasure that move through him then, and all Shiro can do is grab at the couch cushions and pant. Both kits are going at his tits hard, making filthy little sucking noises as they feed.

Shiro looks down and finds himself breathless. They’re both messy eaters, faces dirty with his milk even as they suck for more.

His cock throbs, aches from where he’s trapped it beneath him. The rest of the kits are close, pawing and mewling for attention. There’s jealousy in the air and Shiro almost squirms to realize it. They all want a turn, and... it wouldn’t be fair if Shiro didn’t let them.

_Fuck_, is he going to let them?

He moans, arching and throwing his head back. It feels so good the way they’re feeding, even as the first begins to slow down. Shiro’s caught in the spiral of it, the pleasure never abating. He’s so close to the edge and he wants to give himself over to it.

Before he even realizes it, he’s lifting the slowing kit off his chest, ignoring the indignant sound, and then blindly picking up another.

When then next kit latches it’s with that same intense, desperate hunger. It’s exactly what Shiro needs.

He’s going to come, but he wants just one last look. Shiro gasps for breath and opens his eyes just a peek—

A dozen eyes are watching, waiting for their turn. On his chest the two are suckling, eyes closed but mouths hungry. Shiro can see flashes of his nipples, red and swollen and dripping milk.

One of them sucks hard then, the sharp edge of a baby tooth grazing Shiro’s teat and—

Shiro groans, body rising and spasming. The pleasure washes through him thick and hot and Shiro’s cock jerks where it’s stuck. He comes writhing on the couch, aware only of those two hungry mouths feeding and feeding relentlessly.

Like before, it’s a long orgasm, Shiro comes and comes, and it’s only as his body begins to relax does he feel the spill beneath him.

Without thinking he uncrosses his legs, sighing at the release of pressure from the uncomfortable position. There’s a scuffle then, little feet all over him and then… tongues.

Shiro forgot. He forgot and they’ve overrun him, and Shiro’s pinned to the couch. He could get up, but he's suddenly exhausted from holding out, and the two are still eating. Shiro lets himself off the hook, the damage is already done. He looks down to see just how bad it is.

There’s come on his legs and couch, and there are kits all over lapping it up, getting it in their fur.

It’s obscene and Shiro looks away. He can’t do anything about it now, and maybe it’s best to let them clean up. Clearly his spill has been altered to something that feeds them... and maybe that's not as vile?

Now that the orgasm has gone, Shiro's nipples have become just oversensitive and sore. Each suckle now instead of waves of pleasure has sharp spikes. His flinching though doesn't stop the kits.

If anything, some of them are eagerly trying to pull the two off so they can have some. Shiro knows he’s running out already, and he doesn’t know how long it will take him to refill. In the future he'll have to do better with moderating how much each of them gets.

The best Shiro can do now is that when one slows down, he pulls it off and switches for someone who hasn’t been fed yet. In his head he starts to give them each nicknames depending on their coloring and characteristics so he will remember who fed and who's just greedy for more. Ears, Spots, Maroon, and Stubs have all been fed.

Shiro pushes away the burning sensitivity. He remind himself over and over again that this is fine. Natural. The kits are hungry and he's providing a service. His own reactions are just drug-induced. 

They feed and Shiro idly cups them, pets them, watches as his milk spills into their mouths. It’s strange to be doing this. To be able to. It’s not something he’s ever considered before. In practice now he finds it’s strangely… intimate. He's _feeding_ them.

Shiro feeds about six or seven by the time he’s empty. He knows the moment it happens because suddenly there’s more than just a graze of teeth from the kits. Shiro jumps at the sharp pain and carefully pulls Fluff and Stripe off. They look at him mournfully and squirm in his grip.

“All done,” Shiro says sternly, and places them on the floor.

Another kit tries to paw at his chest, but Shiro pushes it down on his lap, scratching at the soft belly fur. After a while the distraction works and the kit curls up with a yawn. All around him they're settling in, snuggled against him for warmth. Shiro feels himself settling as well. He's spent all day on high alert, and now the comedown is willing him to rest.

He carefully scoots some of the kits around so he can lie down. A few blink huge eyes open at the prospect of food, but Shiro gentles them easily. He's quickly getting better at finding where to touch them and distract them. Before long there's a pile of snoozing fluff on his belly, and small warm bodies curled against his hip and neck. Shiro shuts his eyes, and lets it go.

He thinks, just before he drifts off, that he can allow himself this weakness. He can just decide this is the lesser evil. Surely everyone would forgive him for choosing to be a caregiver than a murderer in the arena. Surely, this is not so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's one more chapter of this I wanna write. Another idea got a hold of me, so you might see that soon too.
> 
> Horny comments inspire me!


	4. Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new tags: anal sex, forced orgasm. This chapter features randomGalraxShiro, noncon applies!!

Shiro wakes to a pulsing pleasure. He sighs, hand coming up to pet the downy fur on his chest. When he looks, Spots and Maroon are there, suckling hungrily. Still half in a dazed sleep, Shiro can do nothing but watch. Their little mouths are latched over each of his nipples, muzzles already mussed with milk. Shiro’s nipples are red and puffy and obscene in the little glances he gets.

It’s the pleasure though that keeps him down. The relief of pressure and constant sucking makes him _throb._ It’s so good, so, so good.

Down past the two kits his cock is hard and bobbing, still snuggled by a pile of fur. They’re all asleep around him, and there’s something worse about that, how he’s dripping on some of their sleeping faces.

_Fuck_.

Shiro knows he’s close to coming then, and imagines how it will be to come all over them. It would be his own doing, his own inability to control himself. There’s shame in that, but it also twists something inside him hotter.

It would take nothing to wake them. All Shiro would have to do is nudge them and they’d happily wake up to lick at him.

The worst parts of him _want_ it. His body remembers the pleasure, how thick and heavy it was coming from both his tits and cock being sucked. It had been like an emptying, a moment of giving himself over completely.

And it had been good for them in the end. The kits needed feeding.

Shiro reaches around Spots and Maroon and pets at Stripe and Ears. Both shift in sleep, making small adorable noises. Not long after, they open their eyes.

Shiro presses his cock to his belly, lowering the red and leaking cockhead right to their mouths. Immediately the kits come fully awake, sniffing after a meal. At the first lick Shiro hisses, eyes closing in pleasure.

After that it’s a frenzy. The kits in their excitement wake the rest who hop up to get in on it. Spots and Maroon are ousted from their slowing feeding, and two more hungry kits take their place.

Shiro clutches at the couch, eyes closed and hips shifting as the pleasure drowns him. His tits are twin points of hot flame just bordering on over stimulation as the eager kittens suckle hard. The small tongues on his cock are devastating counterweights to the near-pain.

He holds out for as long as he can, trying to distract himself from the greedy noises the kits are making. He’s good for them, their sole caretaker, but that thought drags him down further. In front of him he can imagine this life, feeding litter after litter of kits like some prized heifer. His body would change further to help him, primed to spill endless seed, tits swelling to be heavy and full with milk.

Shiro would eventually be too obscene to look at, his entire body signaling fertility. His cock would always be thick and wet, his tits bouncing attractively with every movement. His nipples would stick out, shiny and swollen and begging to be put to mouth and _sucked_. The Galra would see him and want him. They would know what he was good for, the only thing he was good for—

Shiro’s orgasm hits him then. He shouts and tears at the touch at the intensity of it.

It throbs through his body, cock spilling and spilling as he groans. The pleasure is almost all white, taking the control of his own body away. He writhes, fucking his cockhead against the licking and sucking mouths, still coming in hot globs across his belly that are quickly licked up. He still can’t believe how good it is, how it puts all his other sexual experiences to shame. Shiro’s nothing but pleasure, nothing but a provider. He spills and spills and the kits feed on it. They mewl little happy sounds and it gets an extra few pulses of pleasure from him.

When he looks they're all a mess, lapping at his sticky come, washing their brother and sister's faces. Paws is still at the tip of his cock, lapping the last of the gooey whiteness from his slit.

Shiro collapses back down on the couch with a sigh. He doesn’t even try to fight it then as he sips down on the comedown. Everything is too heavy and sleep sounds wonderful. 

A few kits are still fussing at his tits, fighting to be the next to feed, but Shiro’s too exhausted to care. His body is here and they can take what they want.

He sleeps.

##

“_Garesh_ ,” comes a deep voice. A hand wraps around Shiro’s hip and tugs, rolling him easily onto his belly.

Shiro feels foggy, but he blinks to wakefulness quickly as his body is rearranged. His knees come up beneath him to arch his spine and present his ass to the air.

There's a Galra above him, manhandling him. It's not the doctor, but someone else. Someone Shiro doesn’t know. A quick glance around shows that the kits are gone.

“What?” He starts to struggle, the alarm bells in his head shrieking. All the pieces have slotted together and Shiro realizes then that he’s alone, bent over and still nude, with a Galra over him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Shiro snarls, trying to throw an elbow. The Galra is easily twice his size, and had the element of surprise, so despite his Champion reputation, this scuffle doesn't go his way. The Galra disarms Shiro without much effort, pressing his hands underneath his own body and holding him down by the back of the neck.

“Heard we had a new _garesh_, didn’t think it would look so good.” The Galra uses the other hand not holding Shiro to undo his own dressings, Shiro can hear the telltale sounds of his pants opening.

Panic spikes. He’s not prepared, and this Galra is likely to be huge. Where are the kits or the doctor? This can’t be happening to him—

“Fuck look at that little hole,” there’s a huge thumb prying his cheek apart. “I’m going to _destroy_ it.”

Shiro jerks and protests, throwing Galran and human curses. The man is not deterred.

“Fuss if you want, but a _garesh_ serves, and you will serve,” there’s a considering hum from the man then and something blunt and hot touches Shiro’s hole. “Am I your first then?”

Shiro tugs harder, almost wrenching his joints out of their sockets to try and get away. He makes no leeway though, the Galra on him is solid and strong. The cockhead presses threateningly against Shiro's unprepared hole.

The man gives a dark laugh. “I am,” he deduces, and a purring sound of pleasure follows. “Then let me enlighten you to your new position,” the man says. “You will feed the kits, and when the men need a place to dump their seed, you will be their tight little hole.” With that, he starts to push in.

The pain is shrieking. Shiro shouts into the couch as the thick cockhead starts to breech. It’s fucking enormous, nearly choking him. Shiro can hear the whines and pleadings falling from his mouth without his consent, but he can’t do anything about it. All he is is pain, and he needs it to stop.

“You beg sweetly, but your clutch is sweeter still,” the man says, voice gusty. “I know you need some wetness to smooth the way, so just be patient, I’ll give you your first load in just a second.”

His cock continues to push in, ruining Shiro’s mind. Everything is the Galra’s cock, making room for itself, too large and too dry. There are horrible, hurt sounds in his throat.

“_Yeah_,” the Galra grunts, “tiny little hole, but you take hurt beautifully.” Then his voice is too close, whispering blackly into Shiro’s ear. “Makes me want to fucking destroy you. See what you are when you’ve been reduced to a cocksleeve, stretched out and leaking. Bet you’re a fucking sight.”

And then he starts to pull back.

Shiro squirms at the pain. The motion drags his swollen nipples against the fabric of the couch, and that pain twists into something else entirely. Something worse. He clenches his eyes shut against it.

“That’s it,” the Galra says. “_Take it_.”

He pushes in again, slow but scouring. Shiro feels like he’s splintering, but can’t even begin to know where. He whines pathetically, eyes blurring with tears. Beneath him his cock is, inexplicably, getting hard.

“Want to see you cry for it _garesh_,” the man starts a rhythm that grinds Shiro’s pebbled nipples into the couch. “So fucking close the way you clutch me. Hole so new it doesn’t even know what it should do. But I’ll teach you little thing, I’ll make you the perfect little pet— f_uck_. Haven’t had it this good in a while.”

Shiro tries to hold onto his tears, on the one small thing he thinks he can manage, but even this is short lived. As the Galra fucks him, his body begins to defy him. His cock hardens fully and gets slick to slide against the couch, his fattened nipples catch and drag harder each time, tearing down his guards. His whole body feels swollen and overworked as it's wrapped around the thick Galra cock, but some part of him likes it.

Some part of him is close to coming.

Shiro tries to hold back, tries to deny the man, but at the sensations build and against him. Too soon he finds there's nothing left to clutch at. His body is being played against him beneath Galra hands, and he's powerless to stop it. At the first sob from Shiro, the Galra fucks in deep with a groan.

“You’re even prettier when you cry,” he moans. Shiro can feel the man's eyes boring into him with greed, watching Shiro’s tears. It’s perverse, and it only pushes Shiro closer to his own edge.

“Wait till the men hear,” the Galra hisses, fucking Shiro harder as his own peak nears. “You’ll have a line out the door waiting for their turn. Been— while since—“ the words break as he ruts himself into Shiro in earnest. “Needed this,” he says desperately.

It’s the idea of more Galra that break the last part of Shiro. He can just see it, man after man pleasuring himself in Shiro’s hole. They would take him with no concern to Shiro’s pleasure, using him as one does a masturbation toy. They would tell him he was made for it. It wouldn't be far from the truth, now.

Shiro comes, gritting his teeth with an agonized cry. The Galra on him shouts and presses deep, too deep. Shiro can feel his hole rhythmically pulsing on the cock, can hear the Galra’s absolutely enjoyment of that. The man spits more filth right into his ear and it stains him.

A hot spill dumps inside him.

“_Fucking slut,_” the Galra hisses as he empties himself. “Crying and coaxing me to spill. You want it, _fucking take it._” He fucks too deep in Shiro, pumping his come until Shiro is stupid with it. His mind can't catch on any thought but how swollen he is around the Galra. The pleasured sounds of the man get beneath Shiro's skin and settle. Something wicked in the bottom of his belly is pleased by this, pleased to make a Galra sound like _that_. It's the same way he's been catching himself feeling about the kits. 

Happy to provide.

The Galra pulls out sometime after that and moves Shiro's body. His lower half comes off the couch, knees to the floor, so Shiro is bent over the couch then, ass displayed to the room. "Look at that," the Galra says. There's a click of something that sounds like a photo. Hands come back to pull his ass apart and bare him obscenely. There's more of those clicking sounds. "Just a little something for the road," the man says. "Just until I can come back and ruin your hole again."

He pulls away when he's satisfied, and Shiro vaguely hears his clothing being done up again. He doesn't have the energy to move himself to a more dignified position, and something warns him that to try would be dangerous.

"Just hold that," The Galra says. "The men will love such a welcoming treat."

Shiro presses his face into the couch cushion against the hot shame. From his ruined hole, he drips and drips.

Even when the Galra leaves and the door slides shut behind him, Shiro stays in position. It's just as the Galra said, Shiro's bared to the room, ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a minute but I'm back! There is maybe one more chapter of this to wrap, because I've got a delicious new idea I wanna write (think ~Infiltration vibes~). 
> 
> Will be linked in the authors notes as I always do when it's posted...


	5. Finish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continued afab language, some talk of breeding but it's done for kink purposes.

The men come then. They’re less brutish than the first, simply helping themselves to his filthy hole. Shiro lies there and lets them, too worn through to fight.

When they've finished and gone, the doctor arrives. He hums displeasingly at Shiro’s wrecked appearance. “We must fix you up for the kits,” is all he says.

Shiro is taken then, gently, to the baths and then back to the doctor. There he is prodded and tended, his wounds almost completely healed the way that only Galra medicine can. By the time they take him back to the room it’s like nothing has happened.

The kits are there waiting.

Shiro almost weeps when the door closes him in. He falls down onto the carpet and let’s the little ones clamor all over him. They’re soft and warm against his naked skin, and they all chip and mewl and rub at him in recognition.

“Hey, hey, I missed you too.” He scratches ears and bellies, laughs as some of them paw at his belly. The runt, Ears, comes to stand on his chest, mewling right in his face. “What little one?”

It makes another sound.

“If you’re hungry it’s right here.” It’s been hours and hours they’ve been separated, and Shiro can already feel how full his tits have gotten. He reaches a hand to tap at his nipple.

Ears can only focus on meowing at him in blatant complaint. Shiro laughs at its little face and then bodily moves the kit. It takes only a second of putting the kits face near his nipple for it to finally understand. It latches with a greedy little sound and starts to suck.

Shiro sighs and collapses back into the carpet. Tiny tongues have started licking at his cock, and there’s little paws on his chest beginning to knead. Shiro closes his eyes and lets that pleasure run over him. He lets it wash away the memories of the men, the vile way they treated him.

The kits suckle and feed until Shiro can’t help but spill across his belly. He lies there after just feeling their bodies move around, the happy little noises his kits make. It’s soothing after the men, so he pushes away the thoughts of guilt. He just needs something to feel nice.

He lets them coax two more orgasms out of him that night, and by the time they all settle down to sleep Shiro is perfectly relaxed. The kits that have been greedy with his milk have round little bellies that Shiro can’t help but find charming. Curled together on the carpet, they sleep.

##

It goes on like that a while. Certainly longer than a week, so Shiro starts to consider that maybe he won’t be going back to the ring. That maybe the doctor has proven that Shiro is a better asset here.

It’s hard to complain about a shift in fate, especially when he no longer has to kill other aliens for sport.

Most of the time Shiro spends instead feeding and caring for the kits. He’s given good food, showers, and toys, and the doctor regularly monitors both his and the kits health. When Shiro asks, he is told that the kits are progressing perfectly under his care. A warmth suffuses his chest at that. Pride.

Occasionally the men come though. At first they’re rough with him, taking him with little to no prep even when the kits are in the room. During one such incident a Galra fucking him shoves Shiro’s head too sharply into the floor, and they knock one of the kits trying to feed over.

The cry it gives then is a terrible, heart-wrenching thing. Immediately Shiro scoops up the babe, ignoring the hissing protest of the man trying to fuck him. Before it can escalate further, a guard enters and drags the cursing Galra viciously from the room.

After that Shiro is given extra servings for meals, a bundle of blankets, and is left alone. He cuddles and calms the scared kits for the rest of the day, tending especially to Maroon who was bumped.

When the doctor eventually comes to check on them the kit is perfectly okay. The man nods approvingly at Shiro and hands Maroon back and Shiro immediately lifts him to his breast.

The men that are allowed in following that incident are much more gentle.

##

“Ready?” A Galra man asks, poised over Shiro. Shiro’s on all fours, his tits heavy and nipples peaked. Beneath them are a few kits that are playfully trying to latch.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. He’s already hard in anticipation. It’s a new game they’ve been playing, one that seems to work deliciously for all parties involved.

Slowly the Galra's cock begins to push into his hole. It’s a slick glide made perfect with a little prep and lube. He moans and clenches on the cock as it’s given to him.

“Fuck _garesh_. You always feel… _fuck_.”

Shiro hums, and just as Maroon is about to catch his nipple, he moves. Slowly, obscenely, he begins to fuck himself on the Galra’s cock. The man’s hands on his hips tighten, he swears in Galran.

Beneath the kits bumble over each other, trying to get at Shiro. Shiro grins and keeps his rhythm to tease them both. Eventually he lowers his upper body so his nipples bump and graze the kits. He watches, amused, as they grow adorable frustrated trying to latch.

“How’re they… doing?” The Galra has bent close to try to see, but his voice is panting. The men in the beginning had thought they wanted just to fuck Shiro hard, but Shiro has since taught them. The kits well-being is paramount, so they have to move slowly, but Shiro had showed the men the wonders of that. He's shown them without the violence it can be devastatingly good.

“Better every time,” Shiro says, and it’s true. The kits are growing bigger every day, and so smart. They know just how to swindle him with those big doe eyes and floppy ears. Some of the eldest ones have found his weakest spots, and ply them regularly to get first feed or extra scratches.

“Yeah,” the Galra moans as Shiro pushes back on his cock. “Better every…”

“Just a little more,” Shiro says. He tightens on the cock, making the forward drag delicious. He stops just as the cockhead is at his rim.

And Spots latches.

Shiro croons happily and then reaches for the Galra’s hand.

“Want to help feed them?”

The man is lust dumb as they all are when Shiro can work them slow, and so he takes the mans gasping breath as answer. As he pushes back and drives the Galra’s cock deep into him, he brings the man’s huge hand to his tit to squeeze.

“Help me feed your kit,” Shiro croons.

The Galra makes a helpless sound as he squeezes. Milk pours out of Shiro’s nipple and drenches the kit. The little one makes a mewl of pleasure.

“Good,” Shiro says, starting to quicken the pace. “Gonna come in me too?” And now the kits are swarming, hungry and excited by the movement. It’s not their first few times anymore, they know exactly where their food comes from, and they’re always eager.

"_Yeah_," says the Galra.

“I need it,” Shiro says. It used to be an act, but these days it’s hard for even him to know if it still is. The pleasure always swamps him and all he ever wants is to feel this powerful, this desirable. Between the gentle rock of a Galran cock against his prostate and the sucking of his babes, Shiro is completely satisfied.

Except for maybe—

“Want you to breed me,” Shiro gasps.

The Galra curses, head bowing and teeth scraping against Shiro’s throat. That’s another thing Shiro has found, a universal constant among the Galra. Breeding is serious business, and if he hadn’t known because of his work with the kits, the way the Galra act when Shiro says the words would seal it.

“_Garesh_,” the man says, he’s trying hard to stay slow but Shiro can feel his desperation.

Shiro hand wraps around the Galra’s on his tit and helps him squeeze again. “Come on,” Shiro goads. He’s so close himself, the kits suckling and licking. His cock is dripping hard, bobbing between the tongues. “Help me feed them.”

Shiro groans, loud and obscene as the Galra nails his prostate over and over. The Galra behind him pants hot and then squeezes as his nipple. The cock then is deep, so fucking _deep_. Galran men are so big, and properly prepared for them Shiro just falls to pieces on a thick cock like that. 

There’s a guttural sound from the man and his cock swells just that extra little bit because he's close. He's about to spill in Shiro at the idea of it, of breeding Shiro, of him carrying their kit and feeding it just as he his now with the litter. When a kit sucks hard at Shiro's tender nipple then, it's all over. He cries out, clenching down, and begins to come.

The Galra is hissing praise and filth, fucking into Shiro while he flutters around him, but Shiro can barely hear him. He hears his kit’s sounds of delight and his own scraping voice. The pleasure rolls over him, pulse after pulse of it. It never feels less than absolute perfection.

And then there’s a flood of heat inside him, the Galra coming.

Shiro comes down slowly from his orgasm, and the Galra helps lower him into the couch, scooching kits out of the way. Shiro sighs and closes his eyes, lets the kits clean him up. The Galra makes a cooing sound of approval that some of the kits emulate. Shiro can feel the man’s eyes on him watching. They always watch after, captivated by a _garesh_.

Once it would have made him uncomfortable, but now he just feels powerful. His job as caretaker has given him more respect than his title as Champion.

When the man eventually leaves, Shiro curls up with the kits. They’re rumbling pile of fur, licked clean and sated. Shiro pets each delicately, taking in their lengthening legs and fluffier fur. The doctor has said soon some of the eldest will be moving on to Secondary. Shiro doesn’t know what that is, but the doctor seemed unconcerned, and had only promised there would be more kits on the way for him.

Shiro will miss the kits when they go, but he’s also eager for new ones. He'll be happy that he did a good job proving for them that they could move on.

And a little selfishly he remembers when they were so tiny. It's only been a few weeks, but they've grown so fast. He wonders if he’ll have to hold the new ones up to feed, if they'll be too little to figure it out themselves.

One of the kits against Shiro's chest latches onto his swollen nipple. It’s half asleep and Shiro is empty, but sometimes they do it just for comfort. Shiro smiles down at it, cupping it close. The bud of his nipple is just inside that tiny little mouth, and the sight still makes him a little breathless, a lot warm. They're his, these babes, and he loves them.

As he drifts off to sleep feeling their warm and cold noses Shiro thinks of all the things worse than this, and he is grateful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on this one! A weirdly soft ending because idk kits are cute.
> 
> I've got a fresh new filth idea that's coming for ya'll soon, especially if you like Keith suffering (and enjoying it, ahem). When the story is up it will be linked below!
> 
> ***Other Works by this Author***
> 
> [Infiltration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371711/chapters/43501592)  
[Bend to Break](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662662/chapters/44259007)  
[The Likeness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472353/chapters/53697259)  
[Extracurriculars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643971/chapters/54120790)  
[Just Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221826)  
[Well Spent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937881)  
[Wishful Thinking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053141)  
[Little Red & the Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231970)


End file.
